


And the Wind Whispers

by Wonderlandleighleigh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, God fucking dammit, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 06:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18440918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderlandleighleigh/pseuds/Wonderlandleighleigh
Summary: Mary Winchester's life and death and life and death.





	And the Wind Whispers

**Author's Note:**

> Haters to the left. I love Mary Winchester.

Dean Winchester is born at 3:22 in the morning on January 24th. It’s the coldest, snowiest day of the year, and the nurses give him and the other babies born that night two blankets apiece to keep them extra cozy.

Mary watches the snow fall from her hospital room window, with her son in her arms. She lifts him gently, letting him see. His big bright eyes watch the snow, mystified. 

“Look, buddy. It snowed just for you.” 

***** 

It’s sunny and warm on May 2rd, 1983, and Samuel Winchester comes into the world at 1:06 in the afternoon to a soundtrack of bird chirps and buzzy bees.

Mary opens the window in her hospital room, and a warm breeze flows through, making Sam coo and wiggle happily. 

She beams down at him. “My happy, sunny boy.” 

***** 

Mary Winchester dies in flames on a chilly November night. The last thing she seems before the fire takes her completely is her husband’s horrified face. The last thing she hears is her younger son’s terrified wails. 

If she could have spoken in those last moments, she would have said three words: 

“God fucking dammit.” 

***** 

It’s the end of May when she comes back to life, thirty-three years later. 

Coming back doesn’t hurt physically, though it’s incredibly disorienting and the warm air on her skin feels...wrong, somehow.

It’s also intensely heartbreaking. Seeing her boys, grown men now. Big and strong and healthy. 

And hunters. 

It’s her worst nightmare come true, but there’s nothing she can do to stop it or fix it or make it better. 

She missed everything. 

But she smiles anyways, and does her best. 

***** 

It’s not good enough and she knows it.

She gives up and tries again and she gives up and tries again and she gives up but she keeps trying again because 

Because of a lot of reasons.

Because of the hope in Dean’s big green eyes.

Because of the furrow of Sam’s worried brow.

Because of the way they laugh at her bad jokes. Not that she makes many but she’ll catch them off guard sometimes and they always laugh; surprised and delighted and it makes her feel like maybe she can do this.

But then she screw it all up again.

She keeps throwing up her arms, realizing how little she fits, and then she tries again because god dammit, she wants to fit.

She wants to fit.

***** 

Seeing her husband again is 

Awful.

And wonderful. 

John kisses her like there’s no tomorrow (there isn’t), and she cries in a way she can’t even remember doing before. 

Holding him. Having him. 

Mary had pushed back just how much it hurt not to have him around. Not just for the sake of their boys, but for her own sanity.  
Because she does still want to punch him in the face for raising their children to be hunters. But she wants to kiss him, too, after, and apologize for punching him.

Seeing him again brings it all front and center, and she knows her boys feel it too. Knows from the slump of Dean’s shoulders. From the aversion of Sam’s eyes as John finally disappears from their lives again.

None of them sleep that night. They don’t drink. They don’t talk. 

Mary sits between her boys, gripping each of their hands tightly, her thumbs rubbing against their calloused palms.

*****

She dies again. 

This time it’s painless. She’s just…

It’s mid April of 2019 and It’s chilly and there’s still snow on the ground and one minute she’s trying to talk to Jack. Trying to get him to talk to her, so she can help him.

She wants to help him.

Jack’s one of theirs now. Jack is family; the youngest and he needs them.

But none of that matters anymore, because suddenly everything is black, and then it’s bright, and when her vision clears, Mary Winchester is-

Mary Winchester is standing exactly where she had been, and Jack is saying her name. His voice is terrified. As if he’s done something horrible. 

“Well, well, well.” 

It’s Billie’s voice, Mary knows. But she doesn’t turn to face the reaper. 

“Looks like I caught a Winchester.” 

Mary squeezes her eyes shut. 

“God fucking dammit,” she whispers to herself. 

***** 

John Winchester groans and holds his nose, which would be bleeding if they weren’t in heaven.

Mary stomps her foot, shaking her her aching fist, looking up at the sky above them. She’s crying. She’s crying because she’s left her sons again, and she’s crying because Jack is broken and she can’t help fix him and she’s crying because she’s just punched her husband in the face for breaking their babies. 

“This is my heaven,” she says sternly. “If I want him to bleed, he’s gonna bleed.” 

Blood spurts from John’s nose. 

“Dammit, Mary.” 

She takes a breath and lets it out with a brief "Thank you" before hugging her husband.

END


End file.
